Saturday, July 29, 2017

Star Talker: Part 8: Commands

Selena stepped down into the water, her expression softening in the relaxing warmth of the water. Her dusky lips parted slightly with a sigh. Rha'han leaned back, appreciating the sight of her as she moved to the opposite side of the bath, as far away from him as possible. She sat on the smooth stone ledge that mirrored his, the water rising to cover her breasts. Her body looked as soft as her tongue was sharp. The swell of her belly, thick thighs, the generous slope of her hips. The deep olive tone of her skin covered the whole of her. A dark patch of hair hid the triangle between her thighs.

No, this little female was not designed for combat, but you wouldn't have known it, the way she poked and prodded him with her biting remarks and flippant attitude. Her bestial mannerisms paired with the seemingly sophisticated mind fascinated him. He knew he had to have her after watching her fearlessly attack Tah'rim and face himself with such temerity. His father would never arrange a mate for him, certainly not one like this. Despite her reticence, he didn't regret his swift decision to brand her. Part of him also reveled in the fact that he had effectively stolen her from his father, whether his father knew it or not.

"I think we should discuss what will be expected of you here," he said, noting how she stared at him.

Her eyes traveled downward, staring through the water, presumably at his hard length beneath the water. "I have somewhat of an idea."

Rha'han laughed. "Well, yes, that will be part of it." He drug his fingers through the surface of the water. "There some things you should know about me. Perhaps you won't be as averse to the arrangement once you hear them."

She snorted, pinning him with her mesmerizing eyes. "Hmm, well, you did murder twenty-seven of my friends."

He flinched. Right. "We were following the orders of the Shara."

"Orders to attack a peaceful scientific expedition your government authorized?" She hadn't moved, nor had she blinked. Her voice was calm, but he could see the seething rage in those eyes. Part of him was pleased she responded to her tragedies with anger rather than fear or despondency. Although, a bit of fear would make things easier for him.

He took a deep breath, trying not to bite back. "I do as my superiors command. You will do the same."

She arched a dark brow. "Will I, now?"

He sat up straighter at the challenge. "Clearly, I did not leave a lasting impression on the ship. I'll be sure to rectify that later. Come here."

She pressed her back against the wall of the bath, lifting her chin slightly.

Rha'han crossed his upper arms over his chest. "You can obey me, or I can force the issue. I don't recommend the latter."

Her jaw ticked with annoyance, but she rose, straightening her shoulders. She waded toward him slowly, the water lapping at her navel, until she stood a handful of centimeters from his knees. He stood, towering over her tiny form, reaching for a soft sponge and dipping it into a bowl of liquid soap without breaking eye contact. He swept the sponge across his skin, lathering the fruit-scented soap over his tired muscles. She followed the sponge with her gaze, watching it travel over the hard planes of his abdomen, the swell of his biceps, the dark flesh of his nipples. Her eyes snapped up as he dipped it below the water. When finished, he sat back down, rinsing the soap away.